


And these fingertips (Will never run through your skin)

by Lothiriel84



Series: A is for aromantic [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aromantic, Gen, Not Actually Unrequited Love, One-Sided Attraction, Queerplatonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 22:34:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20478563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: And those bright blue eyesCan only meet mineAcross a room filled with peopleThat are less important than you





	And these fingertips (Will never run through your skin)

Crowley smirked fondly at the ‘closed’ sign and let himself into the bookshop, humming a cheerful tune under his breath. It had been just a little over two weeks after the world hadn’t ended, and as far as he was concerned, he was having the time of his (extremely long, at least by human standards) life. They had been pretty much living in each other’s pocket ever since, he and his angel – dining at the Ritz, feeding the ducks in St James’s Park, getting sloshed together in the back of the miraculously restored bookshop. And yes, there might have been a couple of separate occasions – well, more like a few dozens, actually, but who was counting? – when he’d had to fight the overpowering urge to lean forward and kiss that radiant smile off the angel’s face, but he couldn’t honestly say he minded. The warm, adoring fondness Aziraphale was now wearing openly on his sleeve made it all worth it, and if all they ever did was going out for lunch and laughing at each other’s jokes, that was still billion of light years better than anything Crowley had ever allowed himself to hope for in all the millennia they’d known each other. 

“Afternoon, Angel,” he drawled as he finally spotted a familiar head of pale blond hair. “I happened to find myself in possession of one of the finest bottles of twenty-five year old Talisker, and I thought I’d run that past you – you know, just in case.”

The startled sniffle, unmistakable in the silence that followed, very nearly made his (for all intents and purposes, purely decorative) heart quite literally leap out of his mouth. In two steps, he was kneeling in front of his angel, the bottle of expensive whiskey dropped unceremoniously to the floor – although it knew better than to smash itself to pieces just yet.

“Angel? What is it? Has anything happened? Is it – did you hear something from – Upstairs?”

Aziraphale shook his head, ineffectively patting his pockets for his handkerchief. “Nothing’s happened, my dear. I’m afraid I’m making a bit of spectacle of myself, and I’m truly sorry about that.”

Crowley handed him his own handkerchief, which earned him a tremulous smile that only sought to worry him even further. “Angel, please. Don’t lie to me, not – not now, not after all this time.”

“I’m not,” another sniffle, quieter this time. “Nothing _has_ happened, I promise.”

“Right. And you’re sitting here alone, crying, because – ?”

“Oh, Crowley,” the angel murmured tearfully, staring down at the handkerchief crumpled between his fingers. “Why must you always be so good to me?”

He winced, and started to withdraw his hands from where they were resting on Aziraphale’s knees. “I – if you’d rather be alone, of course, I could – go and be somewhere else? No big deal, hey.”

The next thing he knew, he found himself with an armful of angel clinging quite forcefully around his neck. “Please. Don’t go. I know I’m being quite selfish, but – don’t leave me.”

“Wasn’t planning to,” he muttered carefully, sneaking his arms around the angel’s waist. “And I’ll have you know you’re not even in the same star system of being selfish, Angel.”

Aziraphale only sobbed, pressing his face against the fabric of Crowley’s jacket.

“None of this. Aziraphale, Angel – look at me.”

“I’m so sorry, Crowley, I never meant for you to see this. I had promised myself I would handle this properly, only it seems I wasn’t quite as ready as I thought I would be.”

He struggled to ignore the sinking feeling lurking in the pit of his stomach, and valiantly tried to crack joke – or at least, he fervently hoped that was all it was. “If you’re planning on breaking up with me, you just have to say the word. I’m a big demon – I can take it, I promise.”

When the silence stretched longer than either of them would have anticipated, Crowley slowly peeled himself from the angel’s embrace, and (painfully, blankly) stood up again. “Oh. You are, aren’t you? Fair enough, I – it’s okay, Angel, I understand.”

“I never said that!” Aziraphale burst out at length, frustration now apparent in his voice. He ran a hand across his face, still clutching at Crowley’s handkerchief as if it was the one final scrap of comfort he was allowed. “I just happen to think it’s not fair – the way I’m imposing you, without ever being able to give you what you want, or – or need.”

“Angel. What, in Someone’s name, the Heaven are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about me! The way that I am, and the things that I can’t – I can’t even _feel_. I love you, Crowley – more than I’ve ever loved anything or anyone ever since the Beginning, yes, even more than I’ve ever loved Her, and yet – I know it’s nothing to the way you love me.”

“Angel –”

“Crowley, please, let me finish. I know you’re – in love, with me, and I swear, if I could, there’s only one being in the entire creation I would fall for, except it seems that I – cannot. Not for lack of trying, believe me. And, and it doesn’t matter how much I _adore _you, it’s not even close to the way you deserve to be loved back.”

Laughter bubbled up in his throat, unbidden. Bless the ridiculous, stubborn, _beautiful_ fool of an angel. “You love me?”

“I – yes, of course I do. What part of the last six thousand years did you miss?”

“The one where you told me as much, you idiot.”

“Didn’t you listen to a word of what I just said? It doesn’t matter how dearly I love you, it will never be as a – lover, or whatever it is an angel and a demon could be, together. You will always be my best and dearest friend, Crowley, and nothing more.”

“That’s good enough for me,” he grinned, quickly giving up on trying to conceal the gush of pure happiness springing from his chest. “Idiot,” he added, affectionately, gathering the fretting angel into his arms.

Aziraphale sniffled one last time, and buried his face in the crook of his neck.


End file.
